


The Prince's Stable Hand

by Lady Divine (fhartz91)



Category: Glee
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Historical, Arranged Marriage, Bathing/Washing, Bondage, Dom/sub, F/M, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Whipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-14
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-02-04 14:07:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1781797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/Lady%20Divine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the 1800s, Sebastian is a prince, betrothed to wed the Princess Quinn Fabray, but Sebastian has secret desires that his new wife will never be able to fulfill. This started out as just smut, and kind of turned into a love story. Go figure. Warnings for bondage, whipping, mention of injuries from whipping. Rated M. Dom/sub. Dom!Kurt, sub!Sebastian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Prince's Stable Hand

**A/N:** _Stolen from this[Klaine tumblr prompt](http://babyblainers.tumblr.com/post/88404626359/i-need-need-need-a-fic-where-blaine-is-a-medieval) ;)_

Sebastian stood dutifully in the courtyard and watched Princess Fabray’s carriage pull away, the four white stallions at the lead trotting along the stone drive, the clacking of their hooves filling the air with their rhythmic cadence. A dainty, white gloved hand waved back at him from out the darkened window, a lace handkerchief clutched between pinched fingers, its owner shrouded by shadows. Sebastian didn’t need to see her to visualize her golden hair spilling down her shoulders, her lightly sun-kissed skin, her moss green eyes, her baby pink bodice laced so tightly around her petite frame that Sebastian feared she might actually have a broken rib or two.

He raised his own gloved hand and waved back, the smile plastered on his face growing less and less sincere as the carriage drove farther away toward the black iron gates that surrounded the grounds. Before the carriage reached them, Princess Fabray let go of the handkerchief, leaving it behind as a token for her betrothed. The light lace fabric billowed in the air, floating freely in the wake of the carriage as the team gained speed and bustled away. The evening breeze picked up and caught the handkerchief, swirling it through the air, and then settling it on the lush green grass.

“Would you like me to fetch that for you, Your Highness?” Hunter, the captain of the prince’s guard, asked with a sly smirk.

“I don’t give a fuck,” Sebastian muttered, turning angrily from the moonlit scene and storming away.

“Where are you going, Your Highness?” Hunter called after him, a thinly veiled taunt in his amused voice. The day spent guarding the awkward couple had been dreadfully dull and long for Hunter, but it was almost worth it to watch the prince forced to play nice for that vain and shallow fiancée of his. “What should I tell the king if he asks for you?”

Sebastian yanked off his white gloves and chucked them one by one over his shoulder.

“If he ever gets his dick out of the downstairs maid’s ass, you can tell him I’ll see him in hell,” Sebastian snapped back without stopping his stride.

Hunter shook his head, watching the noble Prince Sebastian stomp away like a spoiled child. Hunter knew he was pushing his luck, but he and Sebastian had been friends since birth. Both nursed by Hunter’s own mother, they were nearly brothers. Hunter knew Sebastian better than anyone in the kingdom, definitely better than the prince’s own parents, which was why, despite all the slightly cruel taunts, his heart broke for Sebastian. He saw the prince’s footsteps falter on the cobblestones as he made his way with purpose toward the stables.

Sometimes the worst curse in the world could be the circumstances of birth.

Sebastian didn’t choose who he was or the way he loved, but the fact of the matter was that Sebastian was born a prince. He had duties and responsibilities. He needed to be a role model; a shining example to his kingdom. Those responsibilities included marrying well…and producing an heir.

Hunter turned to the rest of the compliment, who watched their prince with interest, the image most assuredly feeding rumors that would circulate like wildfire later in the drunken revelry of the evening. One or two guards even wore the shadows of knowing grins on their faces. Hunter scowled, and the grins beat a hasty retreat.

“None of you know where the prince is headed, do you?” Hunter bellowed to the stoic guards. When no one answered, Hunter repeated loudly, “Do you!?”

“No, sir,” they answered in unison.

“Good,” Hunter said, knowing in his heart that keeping them quiet through fear only worked for so long. “Keep your mouths shut and you might not be working in the kitchens come morning.”

***

Sebastian concentrated on the click of his footsteps on the stones to scrub his mind clean of Quinn Fabray - his intended - and her inane chatter. She talked all day long about everything and nothing, rarely giving Sebastian’s ears a rest.

“Oh, Your Highness,” she blathered over breakfast, “what an amazing library you have in the palace. I’m sure I’ll never tire of reading while I’m here. It’s my one true passion.”

“Did I tell you, Prince Sebastian,” she jabbered on during their walk in the garden after lunch, “about the most marvelous idea I had for a tabletop that I would love to paint for my sitting room?”

“Does the prince enjoy theater?” she chittered as they took a carriage ride over the grounds. “Oh, I do love the theater. The costumes, the singing, especially the love stories…”

She sat close by his side and put a bold hand on his knee.

Then she proceeded to sing from her favorite score. She sang and she quipped and she barely drew a breath; so many times he wished he could scream, “Do shut the fuck up!” Sebastian wasn’t ashamed of his obvious indifference toward the girl. He had no intention of leading her on. He was sure that he had made it quite clear on several occasions that this ‘marriage’ was one of no consequence to him. He wasn’t marrying for love.

Sebastian made it to the stables, pleased as always to see the windows glowing with lamplight from within, so much warmer and more inviting than any single room in the whole of his palace. He had already undone the buttons to his coat, almost tearing a few in his haste to be rid of the damned thing. It was tight around his chest and restricted his breathing; just another cage that being royal kept him confined in.

He burst through the stable door and sighed in relief at the sight of Kurt, pitchfork in hand, laying fresh hay for the horses in their stalls. Through his loose-fitting linen shirt, Sebastian could see the muscles in his arms while he worked, shifting and stretching beneath flawless, pale skin. Sebastian admired how Kurt could keep his skin so perfect with all the hard labor he performed every day.

“Why does it always reek of horse shit in here?” Sebastian asked to announce his presence, loosening the collar of his shirt.

“Because this is a stable, Your Highness,” Kurt answered without turning from his work. “It’s full of horses and their shit.”

Sebastian watched Kurt continue his work, effectively ignoring him and his mounting frustrations.

“Do you think you could cease shoveling and spare a moment for me?” Sebastian asked.

“A moment with you will turn into the entire evening, Sire,” Kurt chuckled. “Let me get these poor animals fed so I can take my time with you.”

Sebastian pushed past the stable hand and headed to the rear of the shelter, straight to Kurt’s meager quarters.

“Eager tonight, are we?” Kurt teased gently. He had no desire to incur the prince’s ire, but he liked taking occasional advantage of the fact that here, in this stable, where he had total control, he had permission to treat his prince so familiar. Besides, he caught a glimpse of the prince’s ‘playdate’ with the Princess Fabray.

Kurt knew very well the prince’s pain.

He carried it, too.

Kurt gave the broodmare in the stall an extra helping of oats and patted her back comfortingly. She would foal soon, and it made Kurt’s chest tighten with bittersweet hopes and dreams, each one fracturing a bit every day that the prince’s wedding drew near. Horses had such simple lives. They lived in the stables and ran in the yards, their every need taken care of. They ran where their wills took them, and they fucked where they pleased. In the stable of the king, the horses were neither traded nor sold, and his favorites, cared for by Kurt, never went to war. How wonderful it would be to live out his life as a horse, Kurt thought. Then he rolled his eyes at his own foolishness.

He followed the prince to his room and saw him struggling with his clothes. He managed to tear off the coat and toss it on Kurt’s bed, but the shirt was giving him some trouble.

“Could we just get this started,” Sebastian growled, nearly ripping off the uncooperative garment. Kurt caught the delicate shirt when it finally slipped from Sebastian’s shoulders and hung it along with the coat carefully on a dull hook in the corner.

Prince Sebastian stood before Kurt shirtless, back turned to the stable hand, breathing deeply, chest heaving in anticipation. Kurt took a moment to appreciate the body of the man who started coming to him more and more recently, in need of release…and sometimes, in need of comfort. Kurt rounded on Sebastian. He stood before him, stripped off his own shirt, and tossed it aside. He allowed the prince this time to lay eyes on his body. He wore only his leather work pants, the supple fabric clinging to his thighs. Kurt let Sebastian’s eyes wander where they pleased, gawk openly, and once Kurt noticed the growing bulge in the front of Sebastian’s pants twitch with interest, he knew Sebastian had seen enough. Kurt pointed sharply to the ground and seeing the signal from his Dom, Sebastian lowered his eyes to the floor.

“Arms out,” Kurt commanded, no more need for ceremony or fancy titles now that Sebastian had silently shown his willingness to submit.

Sebastian raised his arms and grabbed the posts at either side of him, keeping his eyes downcast while his Dom worked. Slowly and methodically, Kurt bound Sebastian’s wrists to the wood, wrapping them with leather straps and pulling the ends tight, hearing the prince sigh when the leather bit into his skin.

“You like that?” Kurt asked, smiling, running a hand up Sebastian’s spine, rubbing over his shoulders and pushing down on his bowed neck. “Of course, you do. You always do.”

Without permission to speak, Sebastian stood obediently and listened.

In the confines of Kurt’s quarters, his sub didn’t have permission to speak…only to scream.

Kurt stole a moment to clean up, washing the layer of filth from his body with water from a basin on the table beside his bed. He grimaced when the clear water turned brown with dust, as did the towel he wiped down with. He opened a chest by his bedside and pulled out a braided whip along with a pair of leather gloves, both gifts from the prince after the first time Sebastian wandered down to the stables in search of Kurt’s services. At the time, Sebastian barely knew himself; barely understood where his strange urges came from. He had noticed Kurt before, of course he had; who but the blind and the stupid could not. He was fair and strong, even back then, but kept mostly to himself. God, he seemed so quiet, so innocent to Sebastian’s eyes.

After watching Kurt spend the afternoon breaking a new pair of stallions – a gift from the Belgium ambassador – Sebastian simply knew.

He knew what he needed, and that night he sought Kurt out – to have Kurt break _him_ like one of his horses.

They taught each other, learned together, and as time passed Sebastian came to Kurt almost nightly, until the marks on his back frightened his servants. They would have sent most of the household into a fury had it not been for Hunter and his uncanny ability to stop wagging tongues.

Falling in love with Kurt…well, that was something that Sebastian hadn’t expected.

Kurt slipped the gloves over his hands and then ran his hands all over Sebastian’s body, starting down at his ankles, drawing his hands up Sebastian’s legs, firmly massaging the muscles of the prince’s thighs, brushing over the outline of his hard cock aching in the restrictive pants. Kurt would have taken great pleasure in grabbing the impressive length and stroking it until Sebastian came, but he knew that wasn’t what the prince needed. His hands traveled up Sebastian’s flanks and his chest, pinching both nipples hard and soliciting a stifled groan. Kurt hugged Sebastian from behind, fitting their bodies together so that Sebastian could feel every curve and plane of his body against him.

Kurt felt Sebastian lean back toward him, longing to be close to him.

“That’ll come soon enough,” Kurt said. “That’ll come as soon as you do, sweetheart.”

Kurt released him and stepped away, and Sebastian whimpered silently beneath his breath.

“Was there something you wanted to say, sweetheart?” Kurt said, picking up his whip, feeling the weight of it in his hand, holding it so the braid didn’t brush against the dirty floor. He came back to where the prince stood and rested his head against the man’s shoulder. Sebastian shivered, holding on by a thread, and Kurt hadn’t even started yet.

“Please,” Sebastian breathed, his voice wavering, heavy with desperation.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Kurt whispered, letting the words fall over Sebastian’s shoulders and slide down his skin.

Kurt moved away again, and without any warning, snapped the whip into the air. The first crack of Kurt’s whip didn’t connect to Sebastian’s skin. It was only meant to prepare him for what was to come. The sound of it, the promise in that sound as it broke the air around them filled Sebastian’s body with a surge of unbridled heat. It loosened every muscle, released his inhibitions; gave him permission to be a man, not a prince. Kurt ran the leather braid of the whip over Sebastian’s skin with light, playful touches, watching goose bumps blossom on the prince’s smooth, tan back and arms. The prince’s skin, dotted with freckles and pulled tight over his muscular frame, made Kurt’s mouth water. He knew how it tasted, how it felt beneath his tongue, how it felt against his back when Sebastian pounded into him from behind.

Kurt walked back a few paces and watched Sebastian prepare for the first hit, his muscles tightening to absorb the blow. It made Kurt immensely hard to watch such a powerful man like Prince Sebastian, shrewd and clever, feared by his enemies and loved by his kingdom, submit.

Kurt took his time, eying the area right across his spine where thin, white marks had already healed over other lighter, silvery marks. He raised his arm, but before he could bring the whip down he heard one last, soft plea from the prince’s lips.

“Kurt?”

The whip cut through the air, the end of it slicing down Sebastian’s back. The tethered prince threw his head back and screamed through clenched teeth.

“God!” he groaned, breathing out quickly.

“I love the way you sound the first time,” Kurt moaned. “I love hearing you scream.”

“More,” Sebastian begged. “Please, or I’m going to go mad.”

“No one told you to speak,” Kurt said with delight, holding his whip at bay.

Sebastian dropped his head and whined, pressing his lips into a tight line to keep from making any more remarks, one in particular on the tip of his tongue that would most likely have him untied and sent home.

Kurt watched Sebastian’s breathing slow, his body relax, and when calm had overtaken him, Kurt brought the whip down again, moving closer so more of the braid bit into his back.

“Augh! Christ!” Sebastian growled, his arms shaking, tugging reflexively against the straps binding his wrists and pulling them tighter.

Kurt held tight to the whip handle, feeling his heart race in his chest. Another crack of his whip cutting into Sebastian’s back made the prince’s knees buckle. He grabbed at the wooden posts and held firm, righting his feet beneath him.

Kurt brought the whip down again, harder than before, and the scream that escaped the prince’s throat morphed into a moan. His knees buckled again and this time he almost fell completely to the floor.

“Now, now,” Kurt tutted, swallowing down the stirrings of his own erection, begging to be free from his pants. “We wouldn’t want you breaking your pretty little wrists. Stand up like the good boy you are.”

Sebastian regained his footing, his knees wobbling as he waited.

Kurt reached down a gloved hand, snaked it beneath the waist of his pants and grabbed his cock. He held himself, squeezing below the head, suppressing the craving to stroke himself. Holding his hard length in his hand, he brought the whip down again, and again, harder, and then less so, letting Sebastian’s mutters and groans fuel his own desires. Sebastian held on to the posts, fingers straining, knuckles white, while his body slumped and his knees fought to keep him upright. Four more stripes and Sebastian’s back was nearly painted red, but still he begged for more.

“Do you want to cum, Sebastian?” Kurt asked, his voice low, merely a growl in the back of his throat. He approached the prince slowly, letting Sebastian hear his footsteps on the floor behind him. Kurt surveyed the crisscross marks on Sebastian’s back, wondering how it felt, wondering how he could get off on being whipped the way he did, but the look of them, slightly grotesque and swollen, made Kurt long for release himself. “Do you want me to make you cum?”

“Y-y-yes,” Sebastian mumbled, his voice struggling to be heard past the chattering of his teeth.

“Do you want to cum off the end of my whip, Sebastian?”

“Y-y-yes.” Sebastian’s voice was nearly inaudible this time, but Kurt didn’t need to hear him say it. The answer was the same every time.

Kurt retreated again, forgetting the pain of his erection to focus on what he knew would happen next. He brought the whip down lightly on Sebastian’s shoulder, but it was enough to make him weak. One more time on the opposite shoulder almost obliterated his grasp on the wooden post.

“Oh, God,” Sebastian whispered into the air. Kurt could tell from his breathy gasp that he almost had him. The whip snapped at Sebastian’s lower back, in those dimples where Kurt loves to fit his hands when they get the chance to make love. Sebastian’s hips lurched forward, and a quiet, “yes,” passed his lips.

One more. Kurt knew he only needed one more, and he picked his spot carefully, a spot that had taken a lot of practicing on his own to perfect.

A spot that had become the prince’s favorite by far.

Kurt snapped the whip out along Sebastian’s waist, where the braided length wrapped around his hip and hit his throbbing cock, with enough force to sting, but not enough to do any damage.

But it was all he needed.

“Fuck!” Sebastian moaned and came with a string of muttered curses, his knees giving out and his wrists pulling on the leather straps until Kurt thought they might dislocate. Kurt dropped his whip and rushed over with a tall stool for the prince to drop down onto, giving Kurt time to undo the leather straps from the posts, and then from Sebastian’s wrists, taking care with the sore, broken skin.

“Kurt…I…” Sebastian muttered with his eyes half-lidded, lust blown pupils searching Kurt’s body while he worked. The fingers of Sebastian’s freed left hand toyed at the strings of Kurt’s pants while Kurt worked to untie the left.

“Sebastian…” Kurt warned, panting as tired, shaking fingertips brushed the head of his neglected erection.

“Kurt,” Sebastian mumbled, “I want to…”

“No, Your Highness,” Kurt said firmly. He wrapped his arms around Sebastian’s waist and lifted him from the stool, helping Sebastian limp his way onto the bed, “you can barely stand.”

“I don’t…need to stand…for what I have in mind,” Sebastian stuttered, and Kurt immediately got a vivid image of his gorgeous prince on his knees, pink lips stretched around his cock, taking him down his throat to the hilt, sparkling green eyes staring up at him with no shame, no superiority, no lines or borders or boundaries between them. It was almost a tempting enough image to make Kurt give in, but he couldn’t. It wouldn’t feel right. It would feel like taking advantage of a tired and wounded man.

“Maybe when you can stand on your own, I’ll let you,” Kurt said, trying to think of anything he could to make his persistent hard-on die.

He laid Sebastian down on his stomach. He refilled his basin of water and dusted the cool liquid with healing herbs that he remembered his mother using to heal cuts and bruises when he was younger, long before he entered the king’s service. They worked well against infection, and cut down the sting, but most of all, they sped the scabbing of the wounds. Any mark against the prince’s skin stabbed at Kurt, regardless of how erotic whipping him was. Kurt emptied and refilled the basin three times before the wounds were well cleaned.

Kurt pulled off Sebastian’s shoes, pants, and stockings, leaving him exposed to the cool air. Kurt disrobed completely and climbed onto the bed beside him. Sebastian’s hand reached out instinctually to find Kurt, to hold his hand or touch his shoulder, anything to let him know that Kurt was there beside him.

“You will be staying on here, will you not? After I am wed?” Sebastian asked. It was a question made of more than one feeling. It was a statement, a command, a prince relaying an order that would be followed without dispute; but it was also a plea, a hope, a gentle request.

“I was not commanded otherwise,” Kurt replied, hiding his smile. Sebastian laced their fingers together and brought them to his mouth, kissing Kurt’s knuckles.

“Will you be telling Princess Fabray about us then?”

Sebastian’s kisses stopped, and Kurt wished he could take his question back, but he also needed to know.

“Why would she need to know?” Sebastian asked.

“Well, she is to be your wife,” Kurt said matter-of-factly. “Don’t you think she deserves to know?”

“No,” Sebastian said with a catch in his voice. “No, she doesn’t. I will not share you and I will not lose you. Do you understand?”

“But _I’m_ sharing you,” Kurt grumbled.

“It’s not the same,” Sebastian said, “and you know it.”

“But…”

“No, Kurt,” Sebastian interrupted. “It’s different. You understand, don’t you?” Sebastian let out a heavy, shuddering sigh. “Please say you do.”

Kurt sighed, sinking further into the thin mattress with his arm wrapped around the prince’s middle, avoiding putting too much pressure on his back.

“Yes, Your Highness,” he said, leaning over to kiss Sebastian’s cheek. “I understand.”

Kurt drew his blanket over them and kissed Sebastian softly on the nape of his neck, feeling the body in his arms relax at the soothing touch of his lips. Kurt let his breathing follow Sebastian’s, till they inhaled together and exhaled together, drifting off to sleep, with a sympathetic Hunter guarding the stable door, ready to wake his prince before dawn.


	2. Not a Prince, Just a Man

Kurt woke when his mind registered the emptiness around him. No one in his room. No one in his arms. That was usually the reason why Kurt woke when the prince left him - because the emptiness was too much to bear. Kurt felt the chill in the air climb beneath his skin, even though his blanket had been pulled up to his shoulders and tucked around him.

Kurt sucked in a shuddering breath.

He hated waking up alone.

The emptiness, the silence, and the cold twisted together made it difficult for Kurt to breathe.

He heard the horses in their stalls, snuffling in their sleep, or stamping down the hay on the dirt floor with their hooves as they turned in their stalls. Beyond the sounds of the horses and the normal ambient noises of the night – crickets, owls, mice, and the like - Kurt caught a strange murmuring coming from outside. It sounded like hushed voices, which wasn’t unusual, even for this Godforsaken hour of the sunless morning, but the voices sounded familiar.

They captured his attention, and he lay completely still, straining to hear them.

“What in the holy heavens above are you wearing, Sire?” an amused but tired voice chuckled.

“Shut up, Hunter,” a different voice bit in response. Kurt’s ears pricked up immediately upon hearing it. It was a voice Kurt would recognize anywhere, and knowing its owner had tarried longer made Kurt smile. “You have seen me like this many times.”

“Yes,” the guard’s voice chortled around a lengthy yawn, “yes, I have, Your Highness, and yet it baffles me every time.”

A weary sigh accompanied by a pause in the conversation made Kurt lift his head to better hear, bracing himself for whatever might come next.

It wasn’t exactly what Kurt expected.

“Look,” Hunter began, “you are my prince, and I have pledged my loyalty to you…but you are also my friend. My dearest, oldest friend. I know all of your secrets, and believe me…” he chuckled loudly, “there are quite a few.” The prince scoffed but Hunter continued. “I may not understand this one, but I will defend it, from whomever I must.”

It warmed Kurt’s heart to hear such a sincere sentiment from this man – a man that Kurt knew Sebastian held in the highest esteem, with the fondness of a brother. Kurt had had such a friendship once, with his stepbrother. Kurt hadn’t seen Finn since he had entered the service of the king, and he missed him every day.

“I appreciate that, my friend,” Sebastian said. The sound of rustling followed, of cloth against cloth, as if the two men were hugging.

“Are we to away back to the palace, Your Highness?” Hunter asked. “It’s a might bit early yet.” Hunter sounded hopeful, though he would never say so to the prince’s face.

“Not just yet,” Sebastian replied. Kurt noted that at least the prince sounded apologetic on the matter. “There is something I must do, and I am afraid that I will need your help to do it. But after, you have my leave to go. You must be exhausted.”

“With all due respect, Your Highness,” Hunter said, “my place is where you are. I will help you with your task, then I will stay until you decide to leave, and not a moment before.”

Kurt bit his lower lip hard. The poor man. Kurt and Sebastian had gotten a few hours’ sleep. Hunter had been on his feet all night, guarding his prince, protecting their secret, making sure that they could have this night together without being disturbed. Kurt wished there was something he could do for Hunter, but he was far from in a position to do so.

There was no more talk that Kurt could hear from the men outside, but moments later, a loud banging against the walls of the stable jarred the horses into neighing anxiously and nearly stopped Kurt’s heart.

“A little more… _urgh_ …to the left… _mmph_ …Your Highness,” Hunter grunted. There came a terrible crash and Hunter groaned. “Your _other_ left, Sire.”

“Please be… _nrgh_ …more plain… _grrr_ …with your directions next time,” Sebastian snapped. Kurt wanted to laugh, especially when he heard a dull thud and Sebastian hiss with pain. Kurt bit down hard on his blanket to keep from snickering and pretended to sleep as the two men struggled to carry his large tub in.

“Okay… _nngh_ …set it in the middle… _grrrn_ …right there,” Sebastian commanded. Both men grumbled in distress. There was a sudden cry of _no!_ and then the tub dropped, the small room echoing with the sound. Kurt finally broke and a chuckle slipped past his lips.

“I’ll go fetch the water, Your Highness,” Hunter volunteered quickly, bowing slightly to Sebastian and nodding to Kurt before he turned on his heel and left the stable.

Kurt watched Sebastian grab a cloth from the wall and start wiping out the tub using water from Kurt’s basin by his bed. It confounded Kurt on many an occasion how a man like Sebastian could be such a natural submissive. Even when he knew his captain of the guard would soon return with water for Kurt’s bath, knowing the man might catch him acting like a slave, cleaning out Kurt’s tub, he did it anyway, and he did it to please Kurt.

Kurt, the stable hand.

Kurt, the rustic.

Kurt, with no title or noble blood.

But Kurt was Sebastian’s Dom, and the man that he loved. In light of that, cleaning out his tub seemed like such an insignificant task.

When Hunter returned with the buckets of water, heated at the smithy’s fire close by, he did not see Sebastian cleaning Kurt’s tub, but setting his table, getting Kurt’s breakfast ready for him. Hunter poured the water into the tub with a careful eye on the two, watching how his prince waited on the stable hand like a common servant. When the tub was filled, he went to Sebastian and handed him something hidden in his jacket, something wrapped in a rough cloth. He whispered low in the prince’s ear so that not a word did Kurt hear. Sebastian took the offering with a frown and set it on the table, keeping it wrapped and pushing it aside with disdain. Sebastian eyed Kurt rising from the bed with an eyebrow cocked, but he mentioned nothing about it.

“If it pleases Your Highness, I will return to my post until you have need of me,” Hunter announced, watching the silent exchange between Dom and sub. It broke his heart seeing them together, knowing what he did of their combined fates. But their love also brought to mind all the things he had given up in his own life, in pursuit of his career, to get to this position of authority.

He became uncomfortable in their presence, in this intimate atmosphere they created within the four walls of this meager room. He was eager to return outside and be away from it.

“It does,” Sebastian said, suspecting his friend’s discomfort. “Thank you for your assistance.”

Hunter bowed to his prince, then turned his attention to Kurt.

“Master Hummel,” he said with not a bow, but a slight incline of his head in Kurt’s direction. Kurt returned the gesture, then watched with interest as the guard left his presence. When Hunter was clear of the stable, Sebastian took a place at Kurt’s feet.

“Do you tell him to address me that way?” Kurt asked.

“I do not,” Sebastian admitted.

“Then why does he?” Kurt asked, putting his feet on the cold floor and throwing the blanket off his naked body.

“I think it is because he knows how important you are to me,” Sebastian answered. “I treat you like Master here, so he does the same.”

“I appreciate it,” Kurt said, standing completely on his feet, “though I will not expect such treatment outside these walls.”

“It is best that you do not, but you will always have his protection,” Sebastian said, taking Kurt’s hand when Kurt offers it and standing to help Kurt into his tub of water, “as long as I…”

Kurt settled into the tub, sighing with eyes closed as he slipped down further into the water. Hot water was such a luxury, such a gift Kurt rarely had the time or the connections to acquire, so he vowed to take his time savoring it.

“As long as you _what_ , Your Highness?” Kurt asked, reaching out a hand for Sebastian to put a bar of soap and a cloth into. Instead, Sebastian moved Kurt’s hand aside, dunking the cloth into the water and lathering it up with the soap.

“As long as I love you,” Sebastian said quietly, rubbing the cloth in circles over Kurt’s chest, focusing on the content hum coming from his Master.

“And how long do you think that will be, Your Highness?”

“Quite a while,” Sebastian said, his hand stopping its work as the weight of the question – and its answer – hit him. “The rest of my life. Even if you leave me. Even if we are never to be together again…”

“Shhh…” Kurt took Sebastian’s hand in his and held it. “This is very unlike you, Your Highness,” Kurt commented, opening his eyes to see Sebastian staring down past him, at their hands linked together under the water.

“I apologize,” Sebastian said, moving his hand out of Kurt’s grasp and continuing down his body, bringing the wash cloth to scrub over Kurt’s abs, stopping just shy of where Kurt’s cock had grown and laid across his stomach. “Is this better?”

“You are getting closer,” Kurt teased as his cock bobbed beneath the water with the promise of Sebastian’s hand so near.

“You know, I never did get the chance to pay you back for last night,” Sebastian said, bending down close to Kurt’s ear, his voice an alluring slide, as tangible on Kurt’s skin as his hand beneath the water.

“Mmm, tis true,” Kurt agreed. “And seeing as you seem to be able to stand, I guess that means you can kneel.”

“I would wager you are correct on that account.” Sebastian moved the cloth further down Kurt’s body, purposefully avoiding his cock and heading toward his legs.

“So why don’t you finish me up and you can show me how well you kneel, hmm?” Kurt suggested, watching as the prince scrubbed his thighs, his calves, his ankles, down to the soles of his feet.

“As you wish,” Sebastian said, green eyes glittering in the dim lantern light, not daring to match Kurt’s gaze. He traveled back up Kurt’s body with the soap and cloth, washing every inch of his Dom’s skin that he could reach. Kurt sat up and leaned forward so that Sebastian could wash his back. Sebastian rolled up the sleeves of Kurt’s shirt that he wore so as not to soak them and meticulously washed Kurt’s back. When he had done Kurt’s back and shoulders, he rounded the tub and stood in his Dom’s view.

“May I wash your…” Sebastian’s eyes drifted away along with his words, gazing towards the water that obscured Kurt’s body and hid the prize Sebastian longed to touch.

“So uncharacteristically shy today, Your Highness,” Kurt said, eyes smiling. “Well, seeing as you are going to have your mouth on it, I imagine that you would _want_ to clean my cock.” Kurt’s words were bold, trying to lure his snarky sub out from hiding. Kurt’s body itched to feel Sebastian’s lips on his skin. He had endured an evening of feverish dreams about them together, praying for that moment to come, praying that they woke in time to have it.

Kurt’s eyes stayed on his prince as Sebastian lathered up the washing cloth again and then reached underneath the water, taking hold of Kurt’s cock and stroking gently. Kurt bent his knees and opened his legs wide, sliding further down until his chin broke the surface of the water.

“Dear God,” Kurt moaned, hips bucking to meet Sebastian’s fist on every downward stroke, “I could just let you do this. You’re so good at this.” The water lapped at the rim of the tub, threatening to spill over, with Kurt continuing to fuck up into Sebastian’s fist. “You have perfect hands for this. Wonderful, strong hands.” Kurt watched Sebastian’s eyes, his sub’s focus entirely on the task of giving his Dom pleasure. He would do this all day if Kurt asked him – if Sebastian was able to escape his duties for one day. Sebastian had always wanted to try, but he feared they’d be discovered. Visiting Kurt during the late night hours was one thing. Disappearing for a whole day was another.

Sebastian stayed close to his Dom while he performed this act, hovering above Kurt’s chest so Kurt only needed to whisper his commands, but he was still too far for Kurt’s liking.

“Kiss me,” Kurt commanded, licking his lips when he saw Sebastian’s eyes flick to his mouth without a second’s hesitation. Sebastian leaned over Kurt and kissed him, sliding their mouths together without slowing the stroking of his hand. Kurt moaned deep in his throat until Sebastian felt it in his mouth, tickling his tongue.

“Mmm, I need that mouth on me,” Kurt mumbled over Sebastian’s lips. “This instant.”

Sebastian didn’t want to stop touching his Master, especially when Kurt’s wet body shivered beneath his fist. But having his mouth on Kurt’s cock was one of his greatest joys - kneeling at Kurt’s feet, Kurt fucking his face, being used for his Master’s pleasure. It was the thing Sebastian craved.

Kurt pushed Sebastian aside and rose from the tub, putting a hand on the prince’s shoulder to keep himself steady. He stepped out and stood on the ground, skin dripping wet, glistening in the scarce light. Sebastian openly stared. He couldn’t hide his regard. Even if someone had threatened to put out his eyes, he would still stare because Kurt’s naked body was positively hypnotizing - an incredible specimen of man. Kurt wasn’t just a singularly gorgeous human, but a strong, enticing creature, far beyond what the human mind could conceive.

And as far as Sebastian knew, he was the only one who got the privilege of seeing Kurt like this.

If Sebastian discovered that someone else had, it would destroy him.

Kurt caught Sebastian staring and smirked at his open-mouthed awe, honored by how his prince devoured every inch of his body with eyes that didn’t attempt to hide their admiration of him. But this wasn’t the time for looking. The sun would rise before long and they would be parted, but this time not only for a day or a week.

Possibly for the rest of their lives.

Kurt grabbed Sebastian by the hair and dragged him over to his bed. Kurt didn’t bother with drying, simply dropping down to the edge of his mattress, bringing the prince to his knees. Sebastian didn’t need to be told what to do. In this, he required no instruction. He knelt between Kurt’s legs and took his Dom’s cock into his mouth, swallowing him quickly and sucking back up hard. Kurt tasted clean like soap and salty with the flavor of his own cum leaking from the head in anticipation of Sebastian’s heat and his tongue. Kurt didn’t let go of Sebastian’s hair, tightening his hold when the prince didn’t move fast enough or holding hard to slow him down.

“Yes,” Kurt moaned, eventually bracing back on one elbow and moving along with Sebastian as he had before, meeting Sebastian’s mouth with every suck, shallowly at some points, at others pounding nearly all the way down the prince’s throat. Sebastian took it – gagging around Kurt’s length, his eyes burning, watering, his lips stretched till he thought Kurt might unhinge his jaw. But being filled like this was Sebastian’s paradise. This was where the submissive in him came to task. There was only one other way Sebastian enjoyed being filled, and he hoped for that in the near future.

He would hope beyond hope, for as long as it took.

“Jesus…” Kurt groaned, lying back on the bed for Sebastian to finish him off properly. “That’s it…faster…God, please…” Kurt urged his sub on, though by this time Sebastian was doing little more than kneeling obediently while Kurt, hand locked in Sebastian’s hair, fucked the prince for himself. “God, yes,” he chanted, plunging deep into the wet cavern of Sebastian’s mouth. “Yes, yes, yes…” There was a long moment of silence when Kurt lost his voice completely and his body began to shudder. Sebastian knew Kurt was close. He responded as he had been taught, grabbing hold of Kurt’s hips and gripping tight, taking Kurt as far down his throat as he was able and swallowing all Kurt had to give. “Fuck…” Kurt whined, releasing his fist in Sebastian’s hair as he fell back on the bed and let Sebastian do his job, sucking Kurt through his orgasm.

Sebastian swayed as he fought for breath, pulling off Kurt’s softening cock and kneeling low on the floor, trying to recover. His cheeks were flushed, hot to the touch, his entire body shaking as if the orgasm that had racked Kurt’s body had been his own. He licked his lips to capture what was left of his Dom, and the taste of him almost made Sebastian cry. This couldn’t be the end of it. He needed Kurt – he needed his dominance, he needed his love, more than he needed to breathe.

It was in moments like this, lingering in the bliss of pleasing his Dom that Sebastian could see himself being immensely happy here - not a prince, just a man, serving the man he adored.

“Was that…enough?” Sebastian asked.

“More than enough,” Kurt managed between heaving breaths. “The best yet, I think.”

Sebastian nodded to himself. _It would have to be_ , he thought. _It would need to last_.

“Shall I help you to dress?” Sebastian asked. “Then I can get your breakfast?”

“No,” Kurt said. “We have not the time, and I would like to break bread with you. I will dress myself.” Kurt sat up and looked on Sebastian, still clothed in his own loose work shirt. “And you may want to do the same, Your Highness.” Kurt smiled, chuckling kindly, but it only seemed to sour Sebastian, who felt the time they had together ticking away as if it were being chipped from his own bones.

But Sebastian stood and did as he was told, dressing in all but his coat, relinquishing the shirt to Kurt who put it on – not because it was his cleanest, but because now it smelled like his prince, and he would need that to fortify him through the day.

Kurt approached the set table, smiling in approval as a compliment to his sub’s work. Sebastian greeted Kurt with the reviled cloth-wrapped bundle.

“Hunter told me a young man brought this by this morning,” the prince said, opening the edges of the cloth to reveal a loaf of salt bread, scowling at it with a disgust that went far beyond loathing, but also touched on something close to jealousy. “Apparently, he was particularly put out that he couldn’t gift it to you directly.”

“Yes, well, that would be William,” Kurt said, sounding just interested enough to keep the heat burning in Sebastian’s eyes. “He’s the smithy’s son. We have breakfast together every midweek.”

“ _Only_ on the midweek?” Sebastian asked, fiddling unnecessarily with the plates and the cutlery.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Kurt replied, with a warm albeit condescending smile. “Only on the midweek, before he heads off into town. He’s polite and he’s young. Neither traits are especially to my taste.”

Sebastian nodded. He waited by his appointed chair, and sat only after Kurt sat. He watched Kurt take the bread and divide it, waving away the portion Kurt offered him. Kurt set the bread down on Sebastian’s plate and took the prince’s hand.

“You know, you can dine with him whenever you’d like,” Sebastian granted stiffly, slipping his hand from beneath Kurt’s as he reached for the butter and knife to dress Kurt’s slice of bread.

Kurt grabbed Sebastian’s hand back, drew it to his face, and kissed his knuckles.

“I would rather dine with _you_ ,” Kurt said quietly against Sebastian’s skin. “I would rather eat with you and talk with you and lay with you over anyone. If I had my choice, that’s exactly what I’d do… _Sebastian_ …”

Kurt said the prince’s name in a tender whisper across Sebastian’s flesh as he pressed gentle kisses across his hand. The delicate touch reminded Sebastian of the many times when they made love in this room. Kurt would light the small fireplace beforehand. The heat bathed their bodies, the firelight casting a golden glow over Kurt’s skin. They’d lay several blankets down to cushion the hard floor. It wasn’t the most comfortable (they dared not use the bed as they had already broken it once) but all that mattered was them together, wrapped in one another’s embrace, the slow push and pull of their bodies, worshipping one another as if they had all the time in the world.

Sebastian wondered if he should have chosen that over dominance last night, but he needed Kurt’s punishing to keep him sane.

Their morning meal together was quiet - with hands held, a piece of dried meat shared, and the bread reluctantly eaten by both - but accursedly short, when a rustling in the doorway caught their attention.

“Your Highness?” Hunter’s voice called from the entrance. “I apologize for the intrusion, but we need to get you back to the palace.”

“So soon?” Sebastian muttered.

“I waited as long as I could, Sire,” Hunter admitted. “We shouldn’t risk a moment longer.”

Sebastian squeezed Kurt’s hand and sighed.

“You are right,” Sebastian conceded. “As usual.”

Kurt stood from his place at the table and, with hands clasped, pulled Sebastian to his feet. He retrieved Sebastian’s coat from the hook and helped the prince on with it, tugging at the hem to straighten the wrinkles, then moving to the front to do up the fasteners.

“Here,” Sebastian said, fiddling with one of the medals on his lapel and then pressing it into Kurt’s hand. “Keep this, will you? It’s my family crest. Wear it where you can feel it against your skin…and think of me?”

Kurt looked at the medal in his hand glittering gold, such a stranger in his grasp, but it carried the weight of all Kurt held dear – including a surname he would never bear.

“Always, Your Highness,” Kurt said, bending to lay a kiss to it and folding his fingers over it. “Though, I do not need this to think of you.” Kurt chuckled hollowly. “I dare say I think of you every minute.”

“But this means that you belong with me,” Sebastian said, sounding young, sounding lost, sounding tired of his life, “and I belong to you, no matter what.”

Kurt nodded.

“No matter what,” he repeated. “I will treasure it always, Your High---“

Sebastian’s lips met his and stole the word before it could be completed. He needed to take it. The consequence of their lives was a burden Sebastian could no longer bear. He didn’t come down to Kurt’s stables to be reminded that he was a prince. He came to remember that he was a man, a man in love, with too much duty and responsibility to properly acknowledge its existence.

“Your Highness?” Hunter called again from the doorway. “We need to…”

“I’m coming,” Sebastian interrupted, trying to regain his strength of command but finding his voice thin and cracked, like glass that had cooled without being fired long enough – brittle, with all the heat of something stronger, but failing, lacking substance.

“I don’t want to leave you,” Sebastian whispered.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Kurt replied.

Sebastian looked down to where their hands had joined together, and then back up with purpose into his Dom’s eyes.

“Come to the wedding?” Sebastian asked. It was a request Kurt had never expected. He almost took a step back to get away from it.

“I…I cannot,” Kurt said, shaking his head. “Don’t ask me to do that. I beg you.”

“Please, Kurt?” Sebastian pressed as Kurt continued to shake the request away. “You are my strength. You are the only strength I have.”

“That is not true.”

“It is truer than I would like it to be. Please,” Sebastian pleaded. “I need you there…I cannot do this alone.”

Kurt didn’t look away from the prince’s eyes, even though all he wanted to do was run and hide from them. He saw in Sebastian’s face the boy he once was – the one who first came to Kurt, asking for his help.

“If you need me,” Kurt said with the start of tears in his eyes, “then I shall be there.”

Sebastian nodded gratefully, wrapping his fingers over the hand that held the medal. He kissed the fingers of that hand, then the inside of Kurt’s wrist, then his cheek, then his lips quickly. He backed away, departing Kurt’s stables the way he came, dressed like a prince, leaving his love behind, preparing to marry his princess.

 


End file.
